


Daddy please

by bloodandcream



Series: Ship all the Ships [112]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 16:16:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6477217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a soft exhale. An almost. Something dredged up from the deep. A whisper in the dark motel room. And it echoes so fucking loud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy please

Face pressed to the rumpled sheets, strong hand at the back of her neck, Claire squirms.

“The fuck do you think you were doing?”

“Goddamit,” thrashing, she makes it hard for him, “I was just trying to help!”

“Putting yourself in trouble isn’t help.”

“Fuck you, I can handle myself.”

And yeah, that might totally be the wrong thing to say because there’s no way she’s getting him off her. His heavy weight blanketing her, stretched along her back, hips flush against her ass. Shit, she’s soaking her jeans.

Claire can feel his hands flex against her neck. Considering. The sheets smell vaguely musty, a little smoky. She’s not sure. Blinking, the blinds across from her are a little slatted open. Neon of the half busted sign outside fritzing.

“Shit, you haven’t showed me you can, yet.”

And there’s just a hint there. A challenge. It’s better than it used to be. Like maybe she can show him she’s good enough eventually. She’s getting there. Claire ain’t a push a over and she ain’t weak. But yeah ok. Sometimes she’s a little hot headed. She has a tendency to rush into situations. And even she can admit that hunting alone is a pretty stupid move. Strength in numbers blah blah.

Like this jackass has any room to judge.

“You know I fucking have,” She spits, “I didn’t need your help on this.”

“You’d be in the hospital if you didn’t have my help,” He grunts as he pushes her down harder.

“Hospital isn’t dead.”

His fingers tighten around her hip, curl under the hem of her jeans and yank. There’s a flurry of movement, hands opening her pants, pulling rough against her skin, so fucking perfect. Claire bucks her hips, maybe it can be considered resistance. Mostly, she’s just riling him up.

“Shit, yeah.”

She can’t help it.

There isn’t a whole hell of a lot that Claire asks for in her life. So what if she wants a few comforts now and then. A few affirmations. Reassurances. Something like that. Maybe she believes somehow that if she gives him a reason, he’ll keep coming back.

That he won’t leave her alone.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she focuses on the drag of his thick fingers dragging down her soft belly. Between her legs. Pushing through the coarse hair into the soft slick of her pussy. Shit yeah.

“Right there…”

And he’s so attentive. For all his attitude and all his resistance. Focuses right where she says, fingers playing against her clit with firm pressure and she’s fucking dripping in a second. She could get off like this. But fuck if she doesn’t want him to fuck her into next sunday.

Claire doesn’t mean to.

But.

“Please, Daddy.”

It’s a soft exhale. An almost. Something dredged up from the deep. A whisper in the dark motel room. And it echoes so fucking loud.

Fingers twitch against her pussy. His lips on her neck stutter. Both of them still mostly dressed. Hard line of his cock against her ass through two layers of jeans.

“Claire.”

It’s almost a question.

Not quite.

“Daddy….”

Fuck but it feels good to say.

She is so fucked up. No surprise there. He’s got enough issues to open his own store too. She guesses. But she misses. God but Claire misses the attention, the care, the love of her father. Long gone. She just wants to be good. To be useful. To earn that.

To be wanted.

It’s so tender. Barely there.

“…. baby girl…..”

And she struggles for breath.

“Please daddy…”

Shirt pushed up to her armpits. Jeans at her knees. His hands so warm on her back. Hard cock sliding between her legs. Teeth of his jeans zipper against her ass. Wetness of his lips at her neck. Ear. Cheek. Kiss kiss. Isn’t it sweet.

He feels almost shy. Hesitant. It doesn’t surprise her that she’s managed to fuck this up. Hands fisted in the sheets, Claire tenses and pushes back. Keeps her eyes hidden. Begs. She’s not above that.

“Please, please, take care of me….”

Touch light, breath shaky.

“I got you baby girl…”

And he’s right there. Holding her down. Enveloping her. She can’t really say no, she doesn’t want to, but it’s so much easier when she’s got no other way. Hips rolling back. His cock sinking in deep. Best kind of satisfaction. Pussy soaked wet and she clutches around him. Whimpers. Right there. Braces and begs.

“Harder, daddy.”

Fingers curl around her throat, pull her up. Tilt her head. Back arched as he hefts her hips higher. When he pushes back in her eyes roll back. Heat churning in her gut, body lit up bright and dizzy with it. Hands holding hard and fingers anchoring, teeth on the sensitive spot of her shoulder, crowded in between her thighs and balls slapping against her pussy. Shit.

Claire doesn’t even realize the only thing she can say anymore is ‘Daddy’. Wouldn’t want to think about it anyway. That gentle somehow nurturing way that Dean has even when he’s got blood caked under his nails and scratches across his face.

It’s her fault. That he’s here. To help with a hunt. Right.

Even though she was hoping he’d show up for other reasons the whole time.


End file.
